The Godfather
by offtackle46
Summary: Casey's life gets complicated, but will he allow himself to become compromised? Rated T because this is a Casey story so there is violence and course language. It just can't be helped. AU
1. Prologue: The Attack

A/N: Thank you, Wepdiggy, for your beta and your insight into writing fanfiction. My first fanfic went much smoother having you involved.

Disclaimer: No part of Chuck is mine. Dagnabbit.

* * *

"No, General. I follow orders. I am just pointing out that if we can't leave the house, protecting the asset against a concentrated attack is going to be difficult at best."

"Colonel Casey, we have reinforcements headed your way."

"I understand, but I don't have the…."

"Hold what you have."

The screen went black before he could ask any further questions. _Hold what I have? What I have are three agents, two of whom are just out of training, and Eckhart. Listen to me. I can't even call her Jane in my own head. _

Casey lifted his watch and said, "Team Bartowski, check in." _How did that name ever stick? _

"Stairs are clear." Jane Eckhart was calm and casual on the radio. He smiled and grunted. _I love her firm, tight…..radio discipline. _

"Back door is clear." Patrick Grant sounded bored. _Solid. If someone gets through the back door, I know it will be because Grant is dead. _

"Taylor here, the entry way is clear." Samantha Taylor's voice wavered a little.

"Hey academy, no need for names. I know where I put you." _I wish I had someone else for the front door, but she is better than Whitaker_.

Casey waited a moment for Whitaker to check in, but the silence continued. "Whitaker, check in." _I am stuck with another_ _moron, but he's worse than Bartowski with computers_.

Casey had no idea how he even made it through agent training. The kid fainted at the sight of a knife, and blushed at the sight of a bra strap. Yes, he had to admit the kid could shoot, but if a fight ever got up close, he'd get snapped like a twig.

"Eckhart, take the bedroom until I get back." Two clicks were the only response. He grunted again. _Love that radio discipline._

He made his way to the game room to find Jason Whitaker intently watching the door to the garage. Casey noticed that he had killed the power to the video games to help him hear, and he had taken a good tactical position behind an oak bar. _Maybe there's hope for the moron yet. _

"Whitaker, did you plan on answering your radio sometime tonight?"

Whitaker jumped in surprise, but quickly recovered. "Sir, I didn't hear you on the radio."

_Ok, at least he is paying attention. Bartowski would have been bored and ordering Sizzling Shrimp by now._

"That is obvious, Whitaker. Is your radio even on?"

Whitaker look appalled at the idea that he could have forgotten to turn it on and scrambled to check his radio. He looked up at Casey and shrugged. "It's on."

Casey walked over to him and checked it out, but couldn't find anything wrong. Taking the radio from Whitaker, he banged it on the counter. Nothing. He hit it on the counter a second time, and was rewarded with a squeal. When Casey tested it, it was working again.

Whitaker just shook his head. "That in the manual Colonel?"

"Field adjustment." Casey turned to walk out, but stopped. "Oh, and Whitaker? Nice choice of cover." He turned and walked away leaving Whitaker with a smile on his face.

Checking his watch, he decided to check on the other positions before he took up his post. Ten minutes later, he confirmed that Grant had things well in hand and Taylor was, well, she wasn't freaked out. When he got to the stairs, Eckhart wasn't there. His heart began to race, and he launched himself up the stairs. About half way up, he remembered that he had told her to move back into the bedroom. He slowed to a walk, and when he rounded the top, he saw she was watching him from the bedroom with her silenced MP5 at the ready.

"Should I be insulted that you forgot I was waiting in the bedroom for you?"

"I didn't forget." He tried to sound offended.

"Then what's with the mad rush up the stairs."

He couldn't keep the smile off his face, but he said, "Can it, Ekhart. Tangos are inbound, and we don't have much of a cushion on this one."

"Much of a cushion? Is that a joke?"

Instantly, he regretted what he said. She had been at him for a week to get more agents while Chuck and Sarah were out of the country. Woman's intuition she had called it. "Eckhart." He gave her his patented growl.

She ignored it. "John, you know that if the intel is correct, those kids could die."

"I know that. The General says help is on the way.'

As if to scoff at his statement, his iPhone buzzed alerting him that the perimeter alarm in the front had been breached. Looking at Eckhart, he couldn't find anything to say, so he crossed the distance to her and lowered his lips to hers. Her lips were soft and the kiss was brief due to circumstances, but all in all, it was not a bad kiss

"John, I…"

He stopped her before she could say anything because he didn't know what he would say in return. He just kissed her again and then said the first thing that came to mind. "Keep your bursts short."

She smiled and shook her head. "You're a hopeless romantic."

Casey shrugged and smiled back. "Who knew?"

Without trusting himself to say more, he went into the bed room to check on his asset. He crossed the room the bassinet and looked down at Ellie Grace Bartowski. Gracie was his goddaughter, and was the only other woman, besides Eck...Jane, to wrap him around her little finger. He gently picked her up and transferred her to a carrier next to the bassinet. Quietly, he laid her down again and then moved her to the walk in closet. He slid her in behind some of Sarah's dresses and leaned down to gently kiss her forehead.

Softly, he said, "Gracie, if you are the result of being compromised. I might have to try it myself."

After watching her sleep for a short while, he arranged the dresses around her so no one could see her easily. When he got to the door, he turned and double checked to make sure she was well hidden, and then closed the door behind him. Large steel bars slammed into place as he closed the door. Pulling his iPhone out of his pocket, he confirmed Panic Room Bartowski was activated and running properly. The iPhone truly did have an app for everything.

Gracie was as safe as he could make her; now the trick was getting his team out of this mess in one piece. It worried him that this attack was coming when Chuck and Sarah were out of the country. Casey didn't believe in coincidence, and that meant that the bad guys had solid intel on the Bartowski family. He must know that taking Gracie would paralyze Chuck and Sarah. He was pondering how they might have gotten their intel when an his iPhone buzzed again. The bad guys were at the front door.

Before he could get on the radio, Taylor was giving a sitrep. It wasn't good. She reported six targets at the front door with explosives. He started to give instructions but he was interrupted by breaking glass. Casey thought he heard Taylor's silenced MP5 firing, and then there was more glass shattering and a muffled explosion. Taylor immediately came on the radio and reported that the doors had held and there were three targets remaining out front.

"Can you hold there?"

"Not if they have more explosives!"

_I knew she was too new for that spot. I should have taken the front door. _"Fall back to the top of the stairs; I am en route to relieve you."

He stepped out of the bedroom and motioned for Jane over. "I need you to watch Gracie. Taylor will take the top of the stairs."

Rebellion showed bright in Jane's eyes. Casey knew she did not like him putting himself in danger, but she was also a good soldier and reluctantly nodded. She went into the bedroom and he made sure that Taylor had made it to the top of the stairs before he continued down to the entry way. On his way down, his iPhone started to buzz again. He didn't have time to look at it, so he just announced there was another perimeter breach.

He got to the bottom of the stairs and immediately peeked through the broken window to get an idea on what he faced. There was no movement out front. The attack on the front door had to be a diversion. "Grant, they are coming to you."

"I have movement."

Casey ducked under the window, and checked on the front doors. The wood was cracked and they would need to be replaced, but for now the steel bars inside the door were holding.

"How many, Grant?"

"Hard to tell, but too many to be a diversion."

"Copy. How much time do we have?"

"None. Two down. Three are circling to the garage side, and two more to the asset side."

"Ekhart, you have two coming your way."

"I heard."

"Grant, hold what you got." There was a double click in response.

He checked the front yard one last time, but there was still no movement. If the three from the front hooked up with the three from the back, they could give Whitaker more than he could handle. "Whitaker, I am headed your way. Don't shoot me."

_Was that a snort on the air? _He didn't say anything until he rounded the corner into the game room.

"Nice snort." Whitaker couldn't keep a smile off his face.

The kid reminded him a lot of Chuck. He was almost sorry he couldn't banter with the kid, but he had to get a move on. _People to kill and all that good stuff_. "We have a bunch of bad guys coming this way."

"A bunch?"

Casey shrugged. He pulled out black and gray face paint from his pocket and started applying it to his face. Dark paint went on the chin, cheeks, nose and forehead. "I am going outside to get some intel on the enemy, but I am going to need you to cover me. They may already be in the garage." Light paint went around the eyes and under the nose and mouth.

Checking his MP5, Whitaker nodded that he was ready to go. Casey checked his weapons and stepped up to the garage door. "I am going to go right and hide near the trash cans. Shoot anything that moves, close the door and kill anything that tries to get in."

Whitaker only nodded again, and brought his MP5 to the ready.

Taking a deep breath, Casey threw the door open and dashed to the right behind cover. Whitaker must not have seen a target because Casey didn't hear shots fired before the door slammed shut again. In the darkness, Casey waited until his eyes adjusted before he slowly moved toward the side door. He didn't need to look through the window to see if there were enemy soldiers outside. He could hear. _Amateurs. They are so loud; I could hear them from three doors down._

He couldn't quite make out what they were whispering, but if he were in charge, he decided he would try to use his manpower advantage to force his way into the garage. Quickly, he looked around and chose his hiding place, drew his knife and waited. After only a few minutes of waiting, Casey saw the door open a crack and small mirror was thrust through the crack. Holding still, he waited until the point man was convinced it was safe and opened the door. Slowly the soldier crept forward until he came with striking distance.

In a rush, Casey pushed soldier's weapon up and drove his knife between his ribs and into his heart. As the soldier fell to the ground, Casey ripped his weapon from his hands and fired back through the door. The next soldier coming through the door was riddled with bullets. Casey grabbed him before he fell and threw the body at the next soldier in the line. He and the body went down in a heap, and Casey moved on to the next threat. There were three more soldiers left, but two were watching the front yard, and Casey had surprised the third. He gunned them down with his MP5, and headed for the front yard. He had to get eyes on the other side of the house, so he reloaded and continued his mission.

His guess had been right. There was no one in the front of the house, because they had gone to the assist with the garage attack. When he it made to the opposite side of the house, he checked around the corner and swore silently in frustration. There weren't just two soldiers on this side. There were at least ten soldiers maneuvering a ladder against the house to get to the roof. When they got it in place, they would have a clear avenue to Jane. She was good, but she wasn't that good. _I am out numbered, but I have surprise and lots of ammo. This is going to be a good fight. _

Stepping from behind cover, he was surprised that two soldiers had made it to roof. He fired the entire magazine at them, and ducked back behind the corner of the house. Dropping his MP5, he drew his 9mm and knife. The first soldier around the corner got a round in the face, and Casey drove his body back into the other soldiers. After pushing the entire group backwards, he stepped back to get separation and shot the two soldiers in front of him. Two more soldiers were scrambling up the ladder. He took shots at them, but he was being pressured by those still on the ground. At least two rounds had hit him in the protective vest, and he was pretty sure he had been cut or shot in his right thigh. He wanted to help Jane, but the fighting was getting brutal. Casey smiled as he focused on his attacks. Knee. Throat. Groin. Eyes. He used all his tricks, but he still had to retreat to keep them from getting behind him.

As he made it back to the corner of the house, he used it to anchor his left side and drove his attackers to the right. If he got a little more room, he could get past them to get to the ladder. It was the last thought he had before something slammed into the back of his head and he dropped to a knee. The soldiers took advantage of the opening and piled on top of him. He fought hard, but he was dizzy and trying to keep from vomiting. They crushed him to the ground, but before the inevitable kill shot, there was a shout and the pressure on top of him lessened as soldiers backed away from him.

Casey tried to get up, but his head spun and he fell back against the house. He looked up and snarled. "You. I'll be damned."

"I am disappointed, John. After you threw the body on me, you should have finished me."

"Hand me my gun. We can do an instant replay." One of the soldiers kicked the air out of his lungs.

"Enough. I want him alive. If we can't have the baby, John is a nice secondary prize."

Casey couldn't help but smile.

_Jane must have done it. My girls were safe.  
_

_

* * *

_

_A/N: So who do you think got the drop on Casey? I would love to hear your guesses.  
_


	2. Gracie and the Vault

**A/N I loved all the guesses on who the villain is, but I needed to get Ellie Grace out of the Vault first. All of the nasty villain stuff will have to wait until next chapter. **

**Thank you for the reviews, I reveled over each one of them. **

**Wepdiggy, thank you for the beta!**

Disclaimer: Chuck's not mine. If it was, I wouldn't waiting this long to bring it back!

* * *

Men in police uniforms swarmed over Casa Barkowski. They secured the perimeter, turned away local emergency services, and started clearing out the bodies. It was one of the most efficient operations Eckhart had ever seen. Agent Fitzgerald, the NSA team leader, corralled Team Bartowski in the game room. They had been warned not to leave the room until they were given the all clear. It was a little bit scary how quickly dead bodies and evidence disappeared. Within minutes of the NSA team arrival, anyone not involved in the fire fight would not have been able to tell there had been one. She didn't think they had much time on their own.

She looked at the members of Team Bartowski. "Whitaker, have you been in the room the entire time?"

Whitaker only nodded, so Eckhart went on. "Ok, how many NSA folks have been in here."

"Two."

"Could they have bugged the room?"

"I don't think so. They seemed pretty concerned about getting the outside cleaned up quickly."

Eckhart nodded. "We don't have much time, so tell me what we know, so far."

Taylor was the first to speak up. "There were two engagements out front. The first started in the garage, but moved outside where it looks like Colonel Casey efficiently dealt with the remaining forces." She paused and looked around at them. "One against six with little or no return fire. He hit them so fast, they never saw him coming."

There was something odd in her voice when she said it, but Eckhart couldn't quite place it. It wasn't awe, although that might be part of it. She mentally made a note to talk to Taylor later away from the group. "What about the second engagement?"

"Well, that one was harder to read, and the NSA showed up before I got a real good look. If I was going to make a guess, I believe the Colonel got the guys on the roof, but then was overrun by the rest of the soldiers on the ground. Since his body wasn't among the others, I think we have to assume he has been captured by whoever made the attack."

_I knew it. As soon as he didn't come in with that post-violence grin on his face, I knew he was gone._ She had to focus on controlling her breathing and hammering heart. _The protective bastard should have stayed inside where he would have been safe, but no, he has to go running off to be the damned hero._ She looked up to see everyone watching her. She blushed slightly at getting caught being emotional. Turning to Grant, she said, "I saw you out back before the NSA got here. Any clues on who they are or who they work for?"

Grant shook his head. "No identifying scars, marks, or tattoos. No identifying jewelry. I took some pictures of those I thought were leading the attack, but I don't recognize any of them. I was hoping the database might hit on one of them."

Eckhart nodded and then turned to Whitaker. "Anything?"

Whitaker shrugged. "I heard a couple of the NSA guys talking about a ring, but I don't think it was anything. No one made it through the garage because of Colonel Casey, so I never saw them."

They had nothing but a few pictures. Eckhart pushed on her forehead with a fist. _Dammit, John, where are you? What am I suppose to do with this goat screw you left me? _With a growl that would have made Casey grin, she made her decision. "We don't have much, but it is ours. We are going to wait for the Bartowskis to return and see what they can do with the information we have. We give nothing to the NSA, so hand over your cell phones."

Once she had their phones, she went over to one of the drawers and pulled out a Riplock bag. She made sure the phones were turned off and dumped all of them in the bag. She tossed the bag to Grant. "Hide them."

Looking around the room, Grant decided on a spot and pulled out his All-In-One Tool and started working on the back panel of a vintage Gallaxia arcade game console.

While he was working on hiding the phones, she sat down in front of Taylor and Whitaker on the coffee table. "You _do not_ lie to the NSA agents. Tell them exactly what you told me, and if they ask about the phones or pictures, you tell them you don't have one and didn't take any pictures."

"Damn." She looked up to see Grant hit the front panel of the Gallaxia game he had just hid the cell phones in. He was looking behind her. "I almost had my high score."

From behind her Fitzgerald said, "Captain Eckhart, would you come with me."

_You got_ _h__igh score in my book, Grant. __She turned and smiled at Fitzgerald. "Certainly."_

Before she got up, she turned back to Taylor and Whitaker, "Remember, relax and tell them what happened. This is not a trial."

Getting up, she followed Fitzgerald out of the room. They went upstairs into the master bedroom, where Eckhart immediately remembered the baby. _John never told me the combination. How are we going to get her out?_ She was looking at the lock set up when General Beckman startled her. A small miracle had kept the large screen plasma television from being damaged, and on it was General Beckman.

"Lieutenant, what happened?"

"We had a large number of hostiles approach the house. In order to draw fire away from his team and disrupt the enemy, Colonel Casey went outside to confront the enemy."

"Casey abandoned his team to play Lone Ranger? I find that hard to believe. In your opinion did the situation merit his actions?"

_Believe it. If I find out he's off riding a large white horse, I am going to knock him off it. _"Yes, ma'am. I believe he saved the lives of his team."

The General did not seem convinced, but went on. "What is your current situation?"

"The NSA is holding my team for a debriefing, but I could use them to help me get the baby out of the vault."

The General shuffled some papers on her desk and looked up again. "Let the NSA debrief your team, and then I will be in touch. I will contact the littlest Bartowski's parents."

The screen went black. _The littlest Bartowski? Leave it to Gracie to melt the wicked witch's heart._

***

They sat on a leather sofa in the waiting room of Dr. Harold Mayweather, a renowned neurologist at Johns Hopkins. Sarah was looking around at the beautiful paintings in the room, but her mind was on Chuck. Ever since reloading the Intersect back into his brain, he was having horrible headaches, and his super ninja impersonations stressed him the worst. On top of the headaches, he dealt with pulled muscles and strained tendons from making his body do things it was not in shape to do. They had been able to deal with the physical limitations with a regular workout and yoga, but the headaches were getting progressively worse. It was why they were at Johns Hopkins visiting Dr. Mayweather who was the last in a long line of CIA approved doctors who felt he could help Chuck.

She glanced over at her husband and her heart missed a beat. He held his head in his hands, and his leg bounced uncontrollably. She knew he was nervous about the test, but Dr. Mayweather assured them this would be the last test he needed from Chuck. Sarah just worried about Chuck's ability to cope with the test on top of all of the side affects of the headaches. He rarely slept for an entire night any more, and the lack of sleep was twisting him. She was worried that the Chuck she loved was being overshadowed by the Intersect and what it was doing to his brain.

Her phone started buzzing at the same time she heard Chuck say, "Sarah. I can't do it." The pain in his voice cut right through her. She sat her phone next to her and gathered his hand in hers.

"Chuck.." She tried to say what she knew he wanted to hear, but she was torn. If there was a chance that Dr. Mayweather could relieve Chuck's pain, she thought they should stay.

Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes. She felt so helpless and trapped between loving Chuck and doing what she thought was best. Getting off the couch, she knelt down in front of him and pulled him into a hug. "I know you are in pain, but Dr. Mayweather may have the answer."

"Like the last three doctors who were _sure_ they had _the_ answer?"

His voice was bitter and angry, and it made her doubt her argument to stay even more. "Chuck, if you don't want to…"

Chuck cut her off. "It's not that I don't want to. I really want the headaches to go away, but I just can't make it through another test."

What could she say? He had stoically endured grueling batteries of tests, only to have the doctors find nothing. She knew he was frustrated and in pain, and the feeling of uselessness assaulted her again. She was the best agent in the CIA; she had hunted down and killed entire cells of terrorists; she had kept Chuck hidden from Fulcrum for years; she had become a wife and a mother; but she couldn't take away his pain.

The tears that had welled up in her eyes started to roll down her cheeks. "Let's go home, sweetie."

"Thank you." The relief in his voice convinced her she had made the right decision. He hugged her hard, and said, "I miss Gracie so much."

She didn't trust herself to say much, so she hugged him back and said, "Me too."

Bolting for the door hand in hand, they both felt lighter. Neither of them had liked leaving Gracie behind, but she was too young to be flying. Now they were going back home to her, and each of them excitedly talked about the things they missed most about her.

Both of them forgot about Sarah's phone that was left behind buzzing on the couch.

***

Whitaker was the last to get debriefed, so while they waited, Eckhart decided to brainstorm ways to get baby Gracie out of the vault. "Is breaking in out of the question?" _If John were here, he would have an answer to this. Even if he didn't have the code, he would have an answer._

Grant snorted and counted options off on his fingers. "A plasma torch would burn up all the oxygen. The concussion from explosives would be fatal. It would take too long to get a drill big enough to drill the lock."

"Damn. Alright, so we have to hack the lock. Taylor, what did you find out?"

"Nothing good. The lock only opens at the time limit or with a combination thumb print and access code. We are going to have to have one of the parents here to open it."

"Let's assume we are not going to be able to contact Chuck or Sarah. What are our options?"

After twenty minutes of discussion, they were frustrated and had come up with only three workable ideas. First, they decided Grant would call the manufacturer and explain the situation in the hopes that they possibly had a back door in the lock programming. Second, Taylor was going to work on finding something with a thumb print from Chuck or Sarah and transfer the print to a latex glove or plastic slide. Lastly, they decided one of the people who knew Chuck and Sarah best was Morgan. Eckhart was going to get a hold of him and see if they could come up with a list of possible pass codes to try.

They were breaking up when Whitaker finally got out of his debrief. When he heard what they were discussing, he suggested having the plane fueled and ready to take off in Baltimore so when they reached Chuck and Sarah, there was no delay in getting them in the air.

Eckhart liked the idea, but was going to take it a step further. "Take the SUV, get to the airport and be ready to pick the Bartowski's up when they land. Advise airport security what you are doing, so you can get out of there easier when you leave."

She turned to the rest of the team. "Let's get Gracie out of the vault."

The team broke up to get started on their assignments, and the first thing Eckhart did was call the General to get the flight started to Baltimore. The General was clearly getting tired of the constant phone calls, and agreed to the flight, but added one more step of her own. While Eckhart was on the phone, the General contacted the Baltimore office, and had someone sent to contact the Bartowskis.

***

Thirty minutes after leaving Dr. Mayweather's office, Chuck and Sarah arrived back at their hotel. Chuck had booked the earliest flight back to L.A. on the trip, so they had just enough time to pack and get to the airport. If traffic wasn't bad, they might even be able to catch a bite to eat too.

Chuck finished packing his shirt when his phone started playing the Imperial March from Star Wars. _Beckman._ Mayweather probably told her he had left, and she was calling to tell him to get his butt back to Johns Hopkins. He was debating on whether to answer it or not, when Sarah heard it in the bathroom and yelled for him to answer it.

He hesitated. _If she orders me to go back, what am I going to do? I can't go back, but if I don't, she can make my life miserable._ After Bryce died, he had been forceful in asking for some down time for Team Bartowski. He needed time to explore his new super powers, he and Sarah had needed time to grieve, and Casey, well, even Casey needed a break. He was burning up brain cells trying to figure out how to best use Chuck's new skills. The General had declined the request leaving Chuck no choice but to confront her, and the conversation was still fresh in his head.

"_Yes, Mr. Bartowski?"_

"_General, the team needs a break."_

"_As much as I understand how much Agent Larkin's death affected your team, we need to press our short window of advantage."_

"_I understand, ma'am, but I…I think…well, I have to insist."_

"_Insist, Mr. Bartowski?" The General's voice had frosted over. _

"_Just two weeks, that is all I am asking."_

_"Unfortunately, national security waits for no one. You have the weekend, Mr. Bartowski, and the next time you think you want to insist on something? Think again."_

_He didn't push his luck. "Yes, ma'am, um, I mean, thank you, ma'am." The screen had gone black before he was done talking._

Chuck decided he didn't want to bet the General was deficient in the long term memory area. It could be very uncomfortable for him. He cut the ringer on the phone, threw it in his pocket, and went on packing. When Sarah asked who it was on the phone, he told her General Beckman was checking on him.

Sarah thought it was uncharacteristically kind of the General, but seemed to take the lie at face value. Chuck's stomach rolled over with guilt. _I can't do any more tests. I just can't. It is still no reason to lie to Sarah. Why did I do that? She would understand, but I can't lie to her._ He dropped what he was doing and went into the bathroom where he found her packing her various makeup items.

"I have to apologize for something." He tried to keep his tone light, but knew he had been unsuccessful when she looked at him frowning slightly. _I guess that isn't really the way to start off a light conversation._

"What I meant to say is that I made a bonehead move." _Oh, that's much better, idiot._

"Chuck, just say it."

"I lied to you. Beckman was calling and I didn't want to talk to her because she was going to tell me to go back to the doctor and I knew that I couldn't go back so I didn't answer the phone because then I would have to disregard her order and then she would get pissed and we would never get home to see Gracie." He took a deep breath after it all came out.

Sarah laughed in relief. "Thank you for telling me the truth." She gave him kiss.

"You aren't mad?"

"How many times have you known the General just to call and check up on us?"

He smiled sheepishly. "You got me there."

"I figured it had to do with you leaving the doctor's office, and if it was something different, you would tell me."

Chuck gently pulled her closer and nibbled on her neck. In between nibbles, he said, "Have I shown you lately how much I love you?"

The nibbles got her every time, but she made a valiant effort to catch her breath, and said, "Chuck…sweetie. We have to finish…"

He stopped nibbling momentarily. "My thoughts exactly." He started unbuttoning her shirt which led quickly to the rest of their clothes littering the ground between the bathroom and the bed.

***

Eckhart was starting to get frustrated with the first friend. "Yes, I understand that, Morgan. It is only the twentieth time we have gone over Chuck's obsession with Zork. You are sure it is related to a video game?"

"No, I understand you are his first soul mate, but…"

"I cede to your knowledge of everything Chuck, but…"

"Morgan?" _How would John get his attention?_

"Morgan!" _No, not quite the right inflection._

"Morgan Grimes!" _Too motherish. _The idea of John with hands on hips and tapping his foot made her smile. Then she remembered he was missing, and her smile disappeared.

Her frustration came out in a perfect John growl. "Moron, you are on my last nerve. Either listen to me or get off my phone, nut sack."

She smiled again when Morgan stuttered for a moment and then was quiet. "Good. I am just trying to suggest that maybe Sarah had her own ideas about what the code should be."

Taylor ran into the office. "I've got it. I found a solid thumb print off of one of Sarah's perfume bottles." She saw Eckhart was still on the phone and rolled her eyes. "Still?"

Eckhart could only nod. "I agree. Chuck is a wizard of all things electronic, but Sarah is his wife. I think that may trump the friendship soul mate card." Eckhart held the phone away from her ear as Morgan went into another monologue and looked at Taylor. "So if I can find a code, we are good to go?"

Taylor smiled and nodded. "I think I had the easy part."

"How is Grant coming? I don't know if I am going to get anywhere with Morgan."

"He is striking out. The manufacturer isn't going budge, but he is still fighting it."

She put the phone back to her ear when she heard silence. "Morgan don't make me go Casey on your ass again. We are running out of time. I need you to focus and give me your best guess."

"Yes, take into account that this is a pass code set by the two of them."

"Zork Dork? Did she really call him that?"

"He ate it up?"

"Ok, we will give it a shot. Thank you, Morgan." She hung up the phone.

"Ok, so we have the important dates of their lives, and a short list from Morgan that is topped by 'Zork Dork'."

Taylor nodded. "I made up a bunch of slides with Sarah's print so we should have plenty to work with."

She dialed Grant's phone, and after she listened for a few moments, she said, "I agree, meet us at the vault."

***

Sarah lay on her side facing Chuck with her leg entwined with his and running her fingers through his hair. He was deep asleep, and although she would give him a hard time about falling asleep on her, she understood he needed it. If sex relaxed him enough to sleep, she was going to have to throw herself on the proverbial sword more often. She turned over to check the clock, and Chuck rolled toward her and pulled her close to him. They were going to miss their flight if she didn't get him up now. She leaned over to the clock and turned it away from her before snuggling back into Chuck. They could catch another flight.

She didn't know how long they had slept when they were both awoken by someone pounding on the door. Sarah jumped up from the bed and threw on Chuck's shirt. On her way to the door, she picked up her gun off of the nightstand. She looked through the peep hole and saw a gentleman in a suit. He wasn't staff, and he had the look of a government employee.

She opened the door with the chain on it. "May I help you?"

"Ma'am. I was sent by General Beckman. You need to call home immediately."

Sarah frowned. "Message received. Thank you."

"With respect ma'am, I was told to wait until cleared from the General directly."

Sarah only nodded and shut the door.

Chuck had gotten out of bed and was getting his pants on. "Who is that?"

"An agent sent by the General. He says we are supposed to call home immediately."

Chuck's eyes opened wide. "The call earlier. I should have answered the phone."

Sarah walked over and ran a hand up his chest. "There is nothing you can do about now." She slowly took off his shirt, and then pressed herself against him to give him a kiss. "Get dressed, and then tell the agent at the door to go home."

Chuck looked relieved that he was not going to have to call the Beckman. He kissed Sarah back, grabbed his shirt, and headed for the bathroom. Sarah looked for her phone, but couldn't find it. She realized she must have left it at the doctor's office. No wonder Beckman had sent someone to contact them. Her phone was lost and Chuck wasn't answering his.

Something must be wrong. She dialed home a little bit faster.

***

Taylor laid the clear plastic sheet with the thumb print on it on the reader, and then, while wearing latex gloves to hide her own print, she pressed down on the plastic sheet. The reader blinked red for a moment and then turned solid green.

"The print is good. What are you going to try first?"

Eckhart's heart told her it was a combination of dates, but Morgan did know the couple better than she did. "We go with Zork Dork first."

Taylor shook her head. "I think it is a waste of time. Sarah would never make that the code."

Growling, Grant said, "Let's just go down the list. You made enough prints, right?"

"Quit being an impatient jerk."

"Quit being such a…" He was looking for something that would hit home with Taylor without offending Eckhart. He decided it was a losing battle. "Don't be such a girl."

Taylor laughed. "You are such a tough guy."

"We have the entire list to go, so I will start with Zork Dork, and then each of you can alternate picks. Now focus and let's get this done." Eckhart didn't want to listen to the banter any more. It reminded her too much of her debates with John. She really wanted to get on with finding him, and it was beginning to chaff that she was held up rescuing the baby.

Both Taylor and Grant grinned at each other, and watched as Eckhart entered Zork Dork. The thumb reader blinked red and stayed red.

"Strike one." She stepped away from the lock and let Grant and Taylor go at it. She moved over to the window and watched the clouds float through a clear blue sky. These days were her favorite days to watch clouds; the white clouds were in such contrast to the clear blue sky. John always said they were perfect days for flying, but not for cloud watching. If he was going to watch clouds, he preferred a nice stormy day with swirling dark clouds.

Taylor quickly switched out the thumb print with a new one. When she saw steady green, she said, "My first pick is Gracie's birth date." Red.

"Nice try there, Taylor, but that is too simple. How about their wedding anniversary? If there was no honeymoon, there would be no Gracie." Red.

"Ok, I am switching tactics. We are going with the date that Chuck quit the Buy More and Sarah quit the Orange Orange." Red.

"What kind of significant date is that? Puhlease, Grant. I've got it. It is the Bone Cracker Medal from Halo. Morgan says it is Chuck's favorite game and Sarah's favorite medal." Red.

"I am sticking with the dates, and the logical choice is Chuck and Sarah's first real date." Red.

"Nope, you are way off base there Taylor. It is obviously…"

Everyone turned to look at the home phone when it rang. Everyone scrambled at once for the phone, but Eckhart held up a hand. "I'll get it. You two keep going."

Picking up the phone, she said, "Bartowski residence."

"Jane? Jane, it's Sarah. I was told to call home."

"Sarah, we were attacked..."

"Oh, God. Is Gracie ok?"

"Yes, Gracie is fine, but she is locked in the vault. We need the access code."

"But you need a thumb print too. The General has a flight on standby; we will be on it right away."

"Sarah, Taylor got around the thumb print, but we need the code."

"Oh, good. She will have to show me how she did that. The code is…"

Eckhart heard Sarah and Taylor say the code at the same time.

"Tron & Yori"


	3. Casey's Predicament

A/N: I am sorry for the delay, but this chapter didn't want to be written. After beating my head on the keyboard and **Wepdiggy**'s much appreciated help, here it is.

Disclaimer: I wish I was as witty in my disclaimers as Altonish, but alas, I don't own Chuck either.

* * *

When Casey woke, he wished he hadn't. His temples throbbed and the back of his head felt like someone had tried to tear it off with a 2x4. _What the hell did that bitch hit me with?_

Aware that he probably had a concussion, he slowly lifted his head to avoid dizziness, but was only partially successful. He made it fully upright, but it took him a few moments of deep breathing to keep the room from starting to spin. The first thing he noticed was that he was handcuffed and shackled to a steel chair. He tested the handcuffs, but they were tight enough that he had to move his hands around to keep the circulation flowing. He grunted. _No more handcuff foreplay. I end up stripped to my fucking boxers or giving away my escape secrets. _

Continuing to work on the cuffs, he noticed he had not yet been changed out of his clothes. He checked for his knife, but it was gone. _Strike one._ He had a paperclip in his pocket, but he couldn't get to it. _Strike two. _He struggled to get his hand into his belt, and found that they had missed the wire he had slid into the stitching. It was too thin to kill anyone with, but it would get him out of his cuffs if given half a chance. Where to hide it? It couldn't stay in his clothing because they would be the first thing he lost when they started to interrogate him. He thought a moment more before sliding the wire beneath the skin of his ring finger. _Base hit._

Once he was sure he had a way out of them, he quit working on the cuffs, and took a look around the room. The walls looked to be carved from stone. Either he was underground, or he was in a very expensive holding cell that simulated being underground. From his vantage point, he could not see any seams in the rough hewn stone that would indicate construction. He groaned as his head tried to split itself open from the inside out. He tried to think through the pain. Underground would mean they needed ventilation shafts for air as well as a place to deliver supplies. _I am not going to have many options to get out of this hole. I need to get my damn head straight so I can take advantage of any opening they give me. _

He continued his inspection of the room. There was a large metal door on what he labeled the north side of the room. It had no hinges or access to the lock on the inside, and at the bottom, it had a feeding door. On the east wall, there was a steel table that matched the chair he was attached to. He didn't want to turn his head to see what was behind him, but the west wall was empty except for a set of pipes that ran up the wall across the ceiling. The pipes exited through the top of the east wall. There were no cameras unless they were behind him, and no windows.

_Nice fucking set up, so it can't be Fulcrum. If those pansies were running the show, even Chuck would have found a way out of this cell. Hell, I would be half way back to brews and brats by now._

_Something's changed. If his head didn't hurt so badly, he might be able to get his brain around it. He knew one thing: Fulcrum's monkey-fucking-a-coconut organization would never tempt Forrest away from the CIA. She was too high-speed-low-drag to fall for their antics. _

_Shit, that means I have to try to get answers out of her. If I remember correctly, she liked to have her ego stroked, among other things. _

He laughed out loud. _Eckha…Jane. I've gotta start calling her Jane. She's gonna be pissed if she ever knows about this shit. _

"Jane." _Jane, Jane, you're a playing a game of hide and go seek. Jane, you're playing for fun, but I play for keeps, yes, I do. Janey, Janey, Jaaaaaaaney, Jane…_

_Ah hell, even air guitar hurts my head. _

_Come on, focus, Casey. First priority? Tell Jane she is…. No, you moron. First priority getting out of this shit hole. Right. First thing is to rest and get my head right. I can't do a damn thing if I keep seeing double. _

With the guitars from _Jane_ still ringing in his head, he laid his chin gently on his chest and fell into a fitful sleep.

***

Alexandra Forrest was happy for the first time since she left the CIA to take a position at Liberty, Inc. Her skills were in high demand, she was upwardly mobile in the company, and she would soon have John Casey at her side. His participation was inevitable. He would either listen to reason about the good that Liberty doing and join of his own accord, or he would succumb to her persuasion. Either way, he would be a powerful piece on the chess board of corporate intrigue.

She rounded the corner to the cell block and noticed a guard outside the control room. _No one is supposed to have access to John before me._ She set her interrogation case on the floor and approached the guard.

She gave the guard a brilliant smile. "Maybe you can help me. I may be in the wrong place. Is this Colonel Casey's cell block?"

The guard assessed her briefly. "Yes, but it is restricted."

"Restricted?" She put a hand on her hip and pulled out her Crackberry. "By who?"

"Dr. Ian McShane, and you really need to step back, please."

She held her Crackberry to her ear and gave him a distracted nod without moving. "Yes, I was told…"

The guard stepped closer to move her away from the door, and that was all she needed. She slammed an elbow into his trachea and followed it up by hammering her phone into his temple. He went down like a rock. Returning for her case, she picked it up and slid her card through the reader on the door.

It clicked open and she entered the room. There was an older gentleman behind the desk that she assumed was Dr. McShane, and one other guard who immediately moved to block her way. Without pausing she hit him in the groin with the case, but he was good. He twisted his hips to take the majority of the blow and came back at her with a jab. She let his fist slide past her ear and stepped inside his punch. Backpedaling to keep his distance from her, he didn't see her bring the case back around to crunch into his knee. He groaned and went to the ground holding his knee. Before he hit the ground, she had pulled her SIG and pointed it at Dr. McShane who sat perfectly still.

He raised his hands. "I am unarmed."

"Your mistake. Do you believe I will kill you?"

He watched her for a moment and must have decided she was serious. He nodded.

"Good. Now get out of my chair."

He got up from the desk. "Ms. Forrest, I presume?"

That fact that he knew her name made her pause. _Son of a bitch. This bullshit must be sanctioned. If Jager ok'ed this, I just might put a bullet in him._

"Get out of my control center."

"Ms. Forrest, I am here to assist…"

"I am not going to tell you twice."

Shaking his head, he went to help his compatriot up off the ground.

"Throw his gun over in the corner."

He complied, and then they both left. She dialed Garret Jager's office and put it on speaker phone. While she listened to the phone ring, she crossed the room and locked the door. _I am not going to be caught by surprise like Dr. McShame. _

Finally she got an answer. "Alexandra, why do I have an irate doctor on my other line?"

"You gave me the first shot at interrogating Casey. The doctor had set up shop and blocked the control room. I advised him of his error."

"He says you gave one guard a concussion and snapped the other's knee."

"I didn't shoot either of them."

"Here is the problem. I asked Dr. McShane to join you in Colonel Casey's interrogation because he is skilled in the field of chemical interrogation. He will be needed to break through the Colonel's NSA drug resistance training."

"I told you I would be able to get through to Casey without resorting to chemicals. I thought we agreed he was more valuable if we could turn him into an asset?"

"I changed my mind."

"Chemical interrogation has a high risk of death. Has the goal to turn Casey changed? Is he to be terminated?"

"No. I do believe that you are the best person to turn him, but I also want some assurances that his change of heart is legitimate."

"And how are we to gain Casey's trust if he knows we screwed with his head?"

"Enough. This is my decision and I do not want to hear any more about it. I am sending Dr. McShane down again, and I expect you to act professionally."

"Sounds like Liberty doesn't fall far from the CIA tree."

"Do. Not. Compare this company to the CIA. This is not a democracy, and if you are not helping, Alexandra, you are expendable."

When she tried to answer, all she heard was dial tone. _Following orders didn't get me anywhere in the CIA, and I doubt it will get me anywhere here. Time to make my own path. _

She turned off the cameras to the interrogation cell, and pulled a bottle of pills from her interrogation case.

***

Casey woke up to someone shaking him, and it made his head hurt. "Quit."

"Come on, Casey. I don't have much time."

He knew that voice. "Then you shouldn't have hit me so hard."

"I know. I know, but you were about to get shot." She smiled briefly and shrugged. "I got excited."

"What the fuck, Forrest? Fulcrum?" She quit smiling.

"Casey, I really don't have time to explain right now, but I am asking you to trust me." She held a bottle of water to his mouth. "Take a long drink."

He drank deeply, and grunted his thanks.

Holding up two pills from the bottle she brought in, she said, "Etceterin. It will help with the headache. I need you to keep your head clear, John. I am not the only one in on your interrogation."

He nodded his understanding. "Who?"

"McShane? I have never heard of him."

Casey frowned. "Me either."

She held up the bottle for him again. "It doesn't matter who it is. You know what's coming. I can't stop it, but I will be watching over you."

"I have to know why, Alex. I can't trust you if I don't know why."

There was a pounding at the door. "I know, John." She ran out of the cell and quickly turned on the cameras before opening the door for Dr. McShane.

Without saying a word, he walked past her, put his case back on the desk. He repositioned it minutely and turned back her. "I have left both of my guards behind in a show of good faith. I would appreciate some trust in return."

Alex snorted. "You left your guards behind because they need to heal. My trust must be earned, Dr. McShane, and you can start earning it by keeping your more creative concoctions in your case."

"Ms. Forrest, I assure you that I am not here in any experimental capacity. I was told you needed information from this prisoner quickly. I am here to provide you whatever assistance you may need."

"If that is true, you and I should get along just fine. I have some prep work to do with the prisoner. Do you have everything you need here?"

"No, I did not want to move my things in before meeting you." He said rather tersely. "I need to have some equipment brought down from my van."

"How long will you need?"

"If I can find help, it will only take about twenty minutes."

She nodded. "That should be about perfect timing."

After the doctor went to retrieve his equipment, Alex went to her own bag of tricks and pulled out a short wave inhibitor. She reached up until the magnet on the back of the device clicked onto the casing holding the audio wiring coming from the cell. _I can't have anyone listening in to my plans._ She then went to the locker in the back and got out a set of bright orange shirt and pants. She threw the clothes over her arm, and underneath she hid a water bottle and some more Etceterin. The last item she picked up was a tazer.

Taking a deep breath, she went back into the cell. She kept her head down slightly to keep the camera from recording her talking. "Casey, I know you don't have reason to trust me, but I need you to understand I have your best interests at heart."

"Yeah, I have the headache to prove it."

She let his quip slide and started laying thing out on the table making sure that the water bottle and Etceterin were hidden under the clothes. The tazer went into her belt and then she walked over behind Casey and bent down to talk to him while she loosened his cuffs. "When I take the cuffs off don't turn around or I really will have to taze you."

Grunt.

"Once you are dressed, sit back down. I will cuff you again, but I will leave them loose. When the doctor comes through the door, kill him."

"I am not going to…"

"John, shut the fuck up and listen. As I have been recently reminded, this is not Fulcrum. They are not fools, and this will be a professional, chemically enhanced interrogation. If you want a chance to get out of here, you need to kill McShame."

"Tell me why."

She silently undid his cuffs and watched appreciatively as he undressed and put on his orange prisoner uniform. "Why don't you tell me what I want to know? We have sex. You tell me more. We have more sex. What do you say?"

Without embarrassment, he finished dressing and asked again, "Why?"

She sighed and said, "I was tired of the CIA being more worried about internal politics than the safety of the United States. I found an organization that does care."

He was silent. She hoped he trusted her enough to know she wouldn't turn on the CIA without good reason.

Finally, he nodded and sat down in the chair again. "That's enough for now, but I am going to want more info from you."

She cuffed him and left the cuffs loose enough for him to break a thumb and get out of them. "Just info? That's all you want?"

"Oh, yeah. You owe me a striptease."

"Strip? For you? I could be persuaded."

With that, she sashayed out of the cell, leaving Casey behind thinking about what he was getting himself into. _Would Jane understand? Would she ever find out? Is this what Walker went through for two years? Damn, I am thinking it would have been better to get shot. _


	4. The Chase is On

A/N: I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter posted, and I want to say thank you to all of those who reviewed my story. Thank you to Wepdiggy for keeping me from embarrassing myself.

I don't own Chuck.

* * *

Cars honked as Whitaker expertly maneuvered the big SUV through traffic with speed, but he didn't pay them any attention. Agent Bartowski had made her expectations very clear. She could get them back to the house from the airport in 20 minutes, and if he was a moment later than that, he would find himself on Soviet submarine watch in the Aleutian Islands.

Now he was pretty sure that the trip would normally take 40 minutes minimum and that she was joking about the Aleutian Islands, but he was not a betting man. She was a woman worried about her child and anxious to get home; and he was not going to mess with the momma bear.

He slammed on the breaks and felt the back end start to slide sideways. He let up on the brakes for a moment until he cleared the car that cut him off, cranked the wheel back around and got back on the accelerator. The engine roared and he was back on track. He was too busy concentrating on driving to listen to the conversation going on in the backseat.

Sarah grabbed the handle above the door and hung on as the SUV swerved. "Ok, Jane. Send the pictures."

"Yes, Chuck is getting them now." Sarah turned to watch her husband.

He shook his head at the first one, but then his lids half closed and his eyes bounced around behind them. "Sarah, the guy with the military style hair cut is Benjamin Stalls connected with a Fulcrum run pawn shop. It's called _Pawn Pavilion_. I don't have an address, but it is supposed to be at 1st and Vermont. The owner is Lorenzo Pappus."

"Jane, did you hear that?"

Chuck flashed again on the third guy. "The blonde haired guy is Michael Petrovich. He is ex-KGB and has a record as a freelancer. No connections to Fulcrum that I can tell."

"It looks like our best bet is going to be the first guy. Yeah…" Sarah checked her watch. "…we should be arriving in the next 10 minutes. Right, Whitaker?"

Whitaker didn't take his eyes off the road. "Yes, ma'am. Only way you'd get there faster is to fly."

Sarah smiled. She didn't tell the kid that the trip usually took her 30 minutes and that was in the Porsche. "He is doing fine, Jane. He is not out of control and there have been no accidents."

Chuck looked at her. "He does know that we have to get there alive, right?"

"No, no. Chuck was only joking. He is doing fine."

Chuck rolled his eyes.

The tires squealed as Whitaker took the exit ramp. Sarah held on tight and said, "Jane, I won't let him ruin his career. Get those searches started and we will see you in just a bit."

Chuck gave a nervous laugh. "You know I wasn't joking earlier. Can you give the man a reprieve from Aleutian purgatory?"

"He has good skills as a driver. Why not let him try and break my record?"

"Oh, maybe because I nearly hurled after you set the record the first time?"

She elbowed him, but consented. "Whitaker, back off the after burners."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sarah couldn't help but laugh at the disappointment in his voice. "Look at what you have done, Chuck."

"I did? What did I do….?" He gave his best Casey growl imitation when he knew he had been had.

"You fall for it every time."

"Oh yeah, well take this." He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her.

In the front seat, Whitaker turned the mirror toward the ceiling, turned on the stereo and ran the music to the front speakers to create a sound barrier between him and the love birds.

In mid-kiss, Sarah and Chuck started laughing at their driver's attempts at modesty. "Way to kill the mood, Whitaker."

***

"Trish, I owe ya, big time." Patrick Grant hung up the phone. Trish was a fellow academy mate who didn't make it to agent. She was now an analyst, but they still kept in touch. He was going to have to do something nice for her because she had stuck her neck out on this one.

He keyed the radio. "I have the files on _Pawn Pavilion_ and Lorenzo Pappus." While he waited for the rest of the group to gather around the table, he started printing out the files and laying them out in an orderly fashion. It looked like this Pappus guy was a mover and shaker in stolen goods as well as one of the primary money launderers for Fulcrum. Pappus' known associates and those who were known to frequent _Pawn Pavilion _read like a whose-who of thieves and con artists. Throw into the mix a few Cro-Magnon knee cappers, and you had a nice little shit hole.

He was in the process of sorting through the financial record for the pawn shop when Lieutenant Eckhart came on the radio. "Grant, get your gear and meet me at the car."

"Wilco. What about the files?"

"Leave them."

That was all he needed. He left the records where they lay and sprinted for his duty bag where it was laying next to the door. Opening the door and grabbing his bag at the same time, he threw the bag over his shoulder and headed for the car. He didn't know what they were going after and he didn't care; it had to be better than sorting through paperwork. Taylor was better at that crap anyway. He got to the government issued Dodge Charger first, threw his bag in the back and got into the drivers seat. When he turned the key, the V8 roared to life, and he hoped the LT would let him turn it loose on the drive there.

Eckhart ran out the front door as he buckled in. She threw her own bag in back, and was barely in the front seat before she started with the briefing. "Fulcrum operations are being literally burned to the ground. If we are going to get anything out of that pawn shop, we need to get there now."

He didn't say anything in response, but gunned the engine and screeched out of the driveway. Once they were on the way, he said, "Are we it?"

"The General is rerouting Whitaker with the Bartowskis, but until they arrive, it is just you and I."

"How do you want to do this?"

She really wanted to take the lead. If there was any information about where Casey had been taken, she didn't want to miss it, but Grant had more combat experience than she did. He really should go in first. The information wouldn't do her any good if she got them killed because she missed something Grant would have seen.

"You take the lead, but remember we are here to gather information about where they could be keeping Colonel Casey."

He nodded with a smile. "Got it, LT. "

***

The MapStar phone in the SUV began ringing. Whitaker hit the button. "Whitaker."

General Beckman's stern voice rang throughout the SUV. "Agent Whitaker, are the Bartowskis with you?"

Before he could answer, Chuck answered for him. "Whitaker is focusing on his driving, General. We are here."

"There has been a change of plans. We need you to divert to cover Lieutenant Eckhart and Agent Grant. They are enroute to the pawn shop Chuck flashed on."

Sarah frowned. "Why the hurry, General? We haven't seen Ellie."

"It seems someone inside Fulcrum has decided to cut their losses and has been destroying Fulcrum assets. We can only speculate this is an attempt to go off grid to regroup. If we are going to get any intelligence on where they care keeping Colonel Casey, it has to be now."

"Copy, General. We can be there in…" Sarah looked at Whitaker in the rearview mirror.

Whitaker thought for a moment and said, "Twenty-five minutes, give or take."

The General gave a resigned sigh. "I will tell the Lieutenant you will be there in 20 minutes. Don't make me a liar, Agent Whitaker." The phone went dead.

Sarah grinned. "You heard the General, Whitaker. Light speed."

Next to her, Chuck groaned as the engine roared. "Oi, may the Schwartz be with us."

***

Grant double checked the alley both ways before letting go of his silenced MP5 and trying the handle of the back door to the pawn shop. Locked. He motioned for Eckhart to move up and take care of the lock then he moved passed the door and watched the end of the alley.

Eckhart broke out a lock pick set and after a few moments, the lock clicked open. She backed away from the door and let Grant take the lead again.

Grant pushed open the door slowly, and saw a staircase immediately to the right of the door and a hallway straight ahead. Voices echoed down the hallway from the front of the store. They were speaking a Slavic dialect he couldn't quite understand, but he knew enough to know they were playing cards. He wished they had brought Taylor along instead of leaving her on babysitting duty. She could probably tell him who was going to win the hand.

There was nothing behind the door because it bumped up against a wall when it was all the way open. He motioned for the LT to watch the hallway while he climbed the staircase. When he had confirmed that the storage loft was clear, he motioned her to follow. He started slowly moving around to his left carefully placing his feet to avoid boards that started to creek when he stepped on them. He wasn't seeing anything out of the ordinary until he got to the back side of a pile of what he thought was merchandise covered with a tarp in the middle of the loft. The tarp didn't cover the back side of the pile, and it turned out to be propane tanks and gas cans instead of merchandise. Along with the flammables, he found a stack of broken down cardboard boxes all from the same company. Liberty, Inc.

The LT made it to the top of the stairs, and looked to him for an update. He shrugged and shook his head. Motioning her to search the shelves to the right of the loft, he continued left. About 5 minutes later, they met on the other side of the loft. Leaning in close, he whispered. "I don't see anything up here except for enough gas to torch the entire block."

"I don't either, and this creaky floor would never hold anything like a safe."

Before he could answer, there was some yelling from downstairs. He didn't know what was going on, but he wasn't going to get stuck upstairs if it was bad news for them. "Follow my lead and shoot anything that moves."

As he moved toward the stairs, he heard at least two men probably from the card game in the hall below. Swearing under his breath, he pulled a flash-bang from his vest and tossed it down the stairs. Counting to three, he threw himself down the stairs taking three at a time. His timing was nearly perfect. The blast knocked over the two bad guys at the bottom of the stairs, but it also partially got him. Missing his last step he slammed hard into the bottom of the staircase and felt something give in his left shoulder. Trying to ignore the pain, he fired a long burst into the men lying in the hallway and then stepped over them into the hall.

He didn't get two steps before two more men came around the corner from the front of the store. Dropping to a knee, he made himself as small a target as possible. He tried to aim his MP5, but his injured shoulder wouldn't let him. Pushing down the frustration that was starting to build, he held the MP5 with one hand and emptied his magazine. His shots were low, but still managed to tear the legs out from under one of the goons. The other went down like a rock as the LT's bullets slammed into his chest and face.

She came up behind him. "Can you move?"

"Yeah, I just can't shoot worth shit."

She opened the door to his right and helped him around the corner. Voices were coming from both the back door and front of the store. "We've got to barricade the door."

He looked around the room and saw that it was the office. "The desk, LT."

She nodded and between the both of them, they threw it over on its side and pushed it against the door. After that was done, he spotted another problem. There was a half wall between the office and what looked like the lunch room. If the bad guys got into the lunch room there was no way they could hold the office. He gingerly hopped up onto the half wall and motioned to the filing cabinets in the office. "Try to find the info on Colonel Casey, LT. I don't know how long we have."

As if they had read his mind, the bad guys started pounding on the office door. "Hurry, LT."

He jumped off the half wall and grimaced in pain. It took him some pushing, but he finally got a table up against the lunch room door just as bullets shattered the glass in the top of the door. Ducking away from the flying glass, he hopped back over the half wall and tipped over a filing cabinet to hide behind. He checked his ammo. The MP5 was down to just a few rounds, so he dumped it. Pulling out his 9mm, he yelled out to the LT. "I'm down to my 9mm, LT."

"Me too. Give me a few more minutes."

He checked the door to the lunch room, and found someone looking back at him through the glass. Before the person could fire at him, he fired two shots and ducked. There was a scream, so he assumed the same person would not be looking back through the window; he popped up to check the room again. He was just in time to see the grenade sail through the window and land on one of the other tables.

He yelled at the LT warning her of the grenade and then laid down behind the filing cabinet and plugged his ears. The explosion blasted through the half wall and slammed the filing cabinet into his back, pinning him briefly between it and the desk. Once he worked himself free and made sure he wasn't perforated from shrapnel, the first thing he noticed was the dripping from the ceiling onto the desk.

LT was just getting up from where she ducked behind the desk. She was holding her head, but seemed to be coherent. She sniffed the air, and he confirmed what she smelled.

"Gas."

***

Whitaker pulled into a driveway a couple of blocks away from the pawn shop and bailed out of the door as soon as SUV came to a stop. Opening up the tailgate, he started pulling out tactical gear for himself. Sarah and Chuck had dressed during the drive, and were talking about how they were going to go in.

Chuck sounded dubious about something Sarah said. "Through the front door? Isn't that a little obvious?"

Sarah sighed in exasperation. "Chuck, think. Which way do you think Jane and Patrick went in?"

"The back."

"If we go in the back, where do we draw the attention?"

Chuck grimaced. "The back."

"So we go in the front and make a show of it."

Whitaker chose an MP5 and tucked away a few flash-bangs. He had just closed the tailgate and was going to ask where they needed him when a muffled explosion shook the pawn shop.

Sarah spun and drew her gun in one motion. "Let's go."

Whitaker followed, but kept turning to make sure no one was following them. He knew it was paranoid, but they had emphasized watching your back trail in academy. Beginning to fall behind, he decided it was a stupid idea and ran to catch up. Chuck and Sarah had just reached the corner of the building when he caught up. They made some final decisions about which directions they would cover once they were inside and started for the front door. After only a couple of steps, the front door flew open and a trio of men scrambled out of the building screaming in a Slavic dialect. He wished Taylor was here, she was a wiz with Eastern European languages.

They didn't even give the three agents a second look. They were panicked, and ran without looking back. Sarah began backing away from the building. "Something's wrong. Get back."

"What's wrong?"

"They are either yelling about their burned lunch or the building is going to explode."

Chuck was mortified. "What? Sarah. Jane and Patrick are in there." He started to turn around, but Sarah took his arm and pulled him farther to toward the corner of the building.

"Chuck, until we know more about the situation, we are not going to rush in."

They made it to the corner of the building, and Sarah pushed Chuck up against the wall. "You stay here while I investigate."

"No, Sarah. If you are going, I am going."

Sarah let go of him and took a step back. "Whitaker, if Chuck attempts to follow me, shoot him in the leg."

"You are joking, right? Like the Aleutian Islands?"

Whitaker never got his answer, because the upper story of the pawn shop exploded in a ball of flame showering the street with glass and debris. The flames sucked the oxygen from the air, leaving the three of them gasping for air. Chuck sat down hard on the ground, and Sarah picked herself up off the ground. Neither of them could look at the pawn shop.

The only thing that came to Whitaker's stunned mind was, "Oh, shit."


End file.
